


The Heart Remembers

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Gen, Romance, Series: Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-24
Updated: 2000-01-24
Packaged: 2018-11-10 15:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Memories intrude and Ben and Phil find it harder to ignore what might still exist between them.This story is a sequel toDown the Valley of the Shadow.





	The Heart Remembers

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private

Disclaimer: This story is written for the private entertainment of fans. The author makes no claims on the characters or their portrayal by the creation of this story. Fraser, Vecchio, et.al. belong to Alliance; the McKenzies and friends belong to me. No infringement of any copyrights held by CBS, Alliance, CTV, or any other copyright holders of DUE SOUTH is intended. This story is not published for profit, and the author does not give permission for this story to be reproduced for profit.

Lyrics of _The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face_ by Gordon Lightfoot; _What do You do With a Drunken Sailor_ , and _The Good Ship Venus_ are used without permission.

****

The heart remembers 

By Cassandra Hope

(Copyright June 1997)

"W

ell,  
Ben," Travis eyes the Mountie with just a hint of humor in his eyes,  
"if you feel up to it, we can continue your lessons on handling a dory  
today."

Ben's eyebrows shot up. "But, I didn't win the wager." His choice of times had long since passed and Phil had only just crawled from her bedroll on the raft. She gave the group around the campfire a perfunctory wave and headed off in the direction of the portable toilet.

"Well, seeing as how we'll have several long stretches of relatively smooth water today, I'd sure hate to waste them when we could use them. Besides," he winked at Ben, "I imagine that you'll win some other day and the river might not cooperate." Travis drained the last of his cup of coffee, grimacing slightly at its taste. Although not as bad as that pot of 'carburetor cleaner', it still did not have the mellow smoothness of Phil's coffee. He reached for the pot then decided to wait for Phil to make a fresh batch. 

"Frankly, I don't think it cooperates anyway!" Ray added his 2-cents as he poked the embers of the fire with a stick. The others chuckled in agreement. "And I'd rather not be subjected to Benny's piloting again. Last time nearly killed me." 

"Now, Ray, you know that's just not true." Ben smiled slightly at his friend.

"Are you sure no one will trade places with me?" Ray glanced at the faces around the fire.

"Not on your life, Ray!" 

"No way!" 

"I'd rather swim back to Lee's Ferry!" came from Matt, Dave, and Jim as they shared the early morning campfire.

Ben drew his mouth down into a frown. "I'm hurt, I'm really hurt. Don't you trust me?"

Ray and the three other participants looked at Ben then back at themselves. United in a desire to tease the Mountie, the men answered accordingly. 

"Nope!" 

"No way!" 

"Huh uh!"

"See I told ya, Benny! You're gonna get me killed and no one wants to trade places with me!" Ray threw the stick down in disgust.

"Ray, Ray, Ray, you know I would never kill you. You're my best friend."

Ray crossed his arms on his knees and rested his chin on them. "Yeah, well somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

* * *

__

August 16--We must dry our rations again to-day, and make oars.

...This little affluent, which we have discovered here, is a clear, beautiful creek, or river, as it would be termed in this western country, where streams are not abundant...we conclude to name it "Bright Angel."

August 17--Our rations are still spoiling; the bacon is so badly injured that we are compelled to throw it away...We have now only musty flour sufficient for ten days, a few dried apples, but plenty of coffee...Our hopes are that the worst places are passed...and know not how much descent the river has yet to make.

The stream is still wild and rapid, and rolls through a narrow channel. We make but slow progress...

...It is especially cold in the rain to night. The little canvas we have is rotten and useless; the rubber ponchos...lost; more than half the party is without hats, and not one of us has an entire suit of clothes...not a blanket apiece. So we gather drift wood, and build a fire; but after supper the rain, coming down in torrents, extinguishes it, and we sit up all night, on the rocks, shivering, and are more exhausted by the night's discomfort than by the day's toil. ***

Phil closed the small book and loving ran her fingers over it's worn cover. The small gift from her brother, TJ, brought a smile to her face. He had discovered this copy in an old bookstore in Moose Jaw last year when he stayed with her while she recuperated from falling down that mine shaft. He gave it to her after they arrived home in Chicago. She closed her eyes remembering that homecoming. 

She had just introduced her new kitten, Chance, to his litterbox and she and TJ had shared a laugh as the kitten began diligently digging in the litter. Pivoting on her crutches, Phil hobbled through the kitchen heading toward the living room. She chattered laughingly at TJ as she went.

TJ followed Phil's unsteady progress and helped situate her broken ankle on a cushion on the sofa. Standing back, he grinned down at her. "Wait just a minute, Flip, I have something for you." He bent and dug through his bag. With some small amount of anticipation, he handed a small package to her. "Here, Flip. I saw this and immediately thought of you. I know how crazy you are about the Grand Canyon and I thought you might enjoy this." 

Phil eagerly accepted the small package and opened it. The battered and water-stained binding did nothing to suppress her elation at what it covered. " _'First Through the Grand Canyon'_ by Major John Wesley Powell. TJ, how did you know? I've looked and looked for a copy for several years. It's not currently in print." Her face lit with a genuine smile. "Thank you." She reached up and drew him into the circle of her arms and hugged him.

Dropping to his knees, TJ returned the hug. He knew Phil was sincere about the small gift. "Let's just call it a thank you gift from me to you." He placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.

Phil lifted her face to him. "A thank you gift? For what?"

TJ smiled and Phil could see the peacefulness in his eyes. "For Cat."

"Cat gave me a thank you gift, too. She said it was because of you." She hugged him once more.

Interested, TJ inquired, "What was it?" He tilted her chin up to him with his finger.

Phil dropped her chin and stared at the buttons on the front of his shirt. "I'd rather not tell you."

He noticed the blush creeping into her face. "Now you definitely have to tell me!"

"It's personal," Phil whispered.

"So? What could be so personal that you can't share it with me? After all, I have wiped your bottom and changed your diapers. What could be more personal than that?"

"TJ," Phil shook her head, "you certainly have a way with words. Okay, I'll tell you but that's all I'm going to do." Puzzled, TJ waited for her revelation. "Cat gave me a burgundy velvet and lace teddy."

TJ's eyebrows rose in surprise. "A what?"

"You heard me! She gave me a teddy. It's one of the most beautiful things I have ever owned."

Not one to let an opportunity pass where he could tease his sister, TJ insisted, "Well, you'll just have to model it for me."

Scandalized, Phil leaned back in TJ's arms. "Not on your life, Thomas Jonathan Jackson McKenzie!"

TJ chuckled and thought back to Cat. What a remarkable woman she was. She had helped him finally put aside the despair of losing Noelle and, apparently, she had helped Phil find some peace with her memories. He remembered that last night together. Somehow it had not surprised him to learn that Cat wasn't interested in a more permanent relationship. Somehow, it felt right. But, maybe sometime in the future, he might again bask in her comforting love. A fleeting image of Cat that last night caused him to ask, "Velvet and lace? Did Cat by any chance have a green one like it?"

A knowing smirk curved her lips as she patted TJ on the chest. "So you've seen it?" She laughed at the uncomfortable look that settled onto his face and was rewarded by the blush that crept into his cheeks. TJ so rarely blushed that when he did, Phil made the most of it. "You're turning as red as Rob, TJ. What? You thought I didn't know what was going on? I heard you come in that last night and I know you didn't sleep on the couch!"

TJ's mouth opened and closed several times before he found his voice. "Well, blame it on yourself. You were the one that insisted I take her to dinner."

"I know, TJ. And I'm glad you did. I was worried about you. I had a feeling that Cat would be good for you and I was right!"

"Yes, Flip, you were right. Thank you." He bent his head and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Now if you could just get over Ben maybe we could all be happy once more."

Ben. That thought drew her mind back to the present. She watched Ben and Travis as they discussed the boats and the river. _'Uh oh,'_ she thought as she added the small book to her bag then closed it securing the clasp. It looked like another day of Ben's apprenticeship. She gathered her pack and made her way to the dory anticipating another day of observing Ray's obvious discomfort at the hands of the Mountie. In the depths of her heart she knew that she was actually anticipating another day in Ben's company--another day with the man she no longer loved.

* * *

Ben carefully maneuvered the dory through the eddies and currents of the river. He had long since learned not to trust it. Alternating with the rapids were long, deep pools where the gradient of the river was gentle, typically about three feet per mile. The riverbed, however, was irregular--irregular in the extreme. The water's depth could range from one foot or less to as much as 60 feet and back up to 20 feet in a distance of only a few hundred yards. The width varied as well--from as wide as 900 feet to as little as 50. Not wanting to run his dory aground, Ben carefully steered clear of the shallow areas. 

These fluctuations in depth and width, combined with the steep gradient of the rapids, created strange and awe inspiring formations among the rocks in the water. Gracefully fluted pillars and smooth-as-satin walls were as common as the angular facets and cobbled texture of portions of the canyon wall. The river itself showed its multiple personalities as the dories traversed its length. There were eddies with sharply defined shear zones--places where the current could be moving at five miles an hour in one direction while only two feet away it could be moving at five miles an hour the opposite direction. Sometimes the river boiled up in mounds or domes that could be as much as 40 feet across and three feet high in the center. At other times, the river formed vortexes or whirlpools six or seven feet deep. 

Ben leaned back in the cockpit of the 

Glen Canyon and rested his  
arms. He had just negotiated Pipe Springs Rapids, a meager 3 with a drop  
of 7 feet. Exhilarated, his face broke into a beatific smile. He stretched  
broadly enjoying the pulling of the muscles in his back without the pain  
that had accompanied his injury. His eyes met Phil's brown ones and she  
smiled crookedly as she gave him a 'thumbs-up'. He felt great.

Ray on the other hand, didn't. He shouted to Phil down the expanse of the small boat, "Phil, I absolutely demand my money back!"

By now, Phil had figured out that Ray wasn't happy unless he was complaining about something. Smiling at him, she called back, "What is it this time, Ray? Is the ground too hard or the river too wet?" She gave an exaggerated wink to her companions.

Ben's snicker did not go unnoticed. "Fraser, next time I volunteer to spend some time with you on a vacation, shoot me! Just go right ahead and shoot me and put me out of my misery. Just look what it's gotten me both times I volunteered: plane crashes and near drowning. Why? What is it? Have I offended some bad-luck god? Why can't you do something normal like go to California and ogle the babes on the beach?"

"But Ray, I thought you were having a good time." Ben glanced over his shoulder as he resumed rowing.

"Well, I can't enjoy myself when I'm forever wondering when you're gonna do something wrong and flip this boat. I really don't wanna end up in the river."

"Come on now, Ray. It's really not as bad as it looks," Phil laughingly tossed at the man in the bow of the boat. She once more winked at Ben then continued using her hands to illustrate her point, "The worst part is the coldness of the water. It can literally take your breath away...then you gulp in a lung full of water and choke on it...then the river slams you up against a rock...then it pulls you under and you think you're gonna suffocate before you come back to the surface...then you think you can breathe and a wave slaps you in the face and the whole process starts all over again..." 

Ray stared at Phil, his mouth agape, wondering anew about the sanity of the people on this trip. 

"You haven't lived until you've shot the rapids without a boat!" Phil finished.

"And if anyone should know about that, it's Spuds!" Travis interjected. "She manages to do that at least once each time she takes this trip."

"Yeah, but I usually wait until Lava Falls to do it. Maybe this year will be different since I did Hance yesterday." Her husky voice was full of chagrin as she glared at her friend.

"Yeah, well I can do without it, thank you. Now, what do you mean different?" Ray queried.

Phil leaned back on her seat and observed Ben through lowered lashes. Memories crowded into her mind. Tearing her eyes away, she pointedly looked past the Mountie to the Italian in the bow. "Maybe this year I'll make it through Lava Falls in a dory. In all the times I've made this trip, I have yet to make it through there without ending up in the drink! Maybe this year will be different."

"Well, if it's that bad, why do you try it?" Maybe she could explain to him why anyone in his right mind would willingly subject himself to this kind of punishment.

Phil pondered that question before answering, "I guess I do it because I never like to give up on something."

Unwittingly, her eyes sought Ben's. She had given up on his love but maybe that was no longer true. She smiled tremulously at him and watched how his eyes lit with his reciprocating smile. She let her eyes rove up and down his lean form. Five days straight of sun had tanned him to a burnished bronze. He looked like some pirate or swashbuckler out of another era in his ratty shorts and bedraggled T-shirt, the Bulls cap shading his face. He was a sight that she would gladly watch anytime--any place. That thought caught her by surprise but then she had always enjoyed looking at him. He was just too damn good-looking for her own peace of mind.

"A penny for your thoughts, Phil," Ben said as he used the oars to keep the dory in the center of the current. He had watched her watch him. She seemed to be more at ease in his company each day that passed. _'Take it slow and easy, rebuild the lost friendship,'_ he reminded himself. However, when she looked at him the way she was right now, he wondered if a friendship was all he wanted. He smiled back at her, enjoying traversing the Canyon in her presence. They had talked about it so many years ago and now, here they were, doing it.

With an adventurous toss of her head, she said, "I was just thinking about how you reminded me of a pirate."

"A pirate?" He was surprised at the thrill that surged through him.

"Yeah. I don't believe I have ever seen you this ratty."

"Then you haven't seen his apartment!" Ray volunteered. "Talk about ratty!" 

Affronted, Ben called over his shoulder, "Ray, there are no rats in my apartment."

"Yeah, but what about your neighbors? And the only reason you don't have any rats is 'cause Dief scares them away! If they'd offer him a jelly donut he'd probably give them the run of the place." The others in the boat laughed.

"It's really not that bad, Phil." 

"Yeah," Ray called to Phil, "He gives new meaning to the word 'spartan'."

"But...but," Ben sputtered then stopped as he saw the smile spread across Phil's face not quite sure why he felt the need to explain his circumstances. Maybe he just didn't want her to think any worse of him that she already did. Maybe it was something else entirely. He covertly studied her as she shifted her attention from Ray to himself. She was not what he remembered. The prankster was still there but now there was so much more. Maybe it was because she could be as playful as a girl or as composed as a mature woman. Maybe he had not matured as much as she had over the years that separated them.

Approaching Mile 88, the occupants of the dories spotted some hikers as they passed under the suspension bridge for the Bright Angel Trail. They returned the waves the hikers sent their way. Pulling ashore at Bright Angel Creek, the Hunter's went in search of the supplies that were waiting for the group at Phantom Ranch.

After a lunch of humus and tabouli on pita bread, fresh vegetables, and assorted condiments, several people wandered down to Bright Angel Creek, Phil and Ben among them. Without pausing, Phil waded out into the creek heading for a large rock near the center that was almost submerged in the stream. Climbing on top she settled down and leaned back on the rock. Closing her eyes, she covered her face with her hat. The occasional spray of water that leaped over the rock felt good as it cooled her skin.

She was not surprised to hear the unmistakable splashing of someone approaching her rock. Nor was she surprised when Ben asked, "May I join you, Phil?"

"I think there's room here for you, Ben." She slid over slightly making room for him on her rock. She heard him slide onto the rock and settle beside her. Lifting her hat she peered up at him. 

He smiled down at her before stretching out beside her. "Does this remind you of anything, Phil?"

Of course it did. How could she ever forget that rock in the middle of her lake? How could she ever forget that first passionate kiss? How could she ever forget how much she had wanted him to make love to her? Why did her mind continually wander into that realm of their past relationship? She dropped the hat back on her face so that she no longer saw his face. She didn't need the constant reminders of passion and love they had once shared. 

His continued silence only served as a reminder that he awaited an answer. "I remember a rock in a lake surrounded by very cold water. I also remember someone tripping and falling off that rock."

"As I recall that someone was pushed off that rock!" Ben countered.

"As I recall that someone got what he deserved." 

Ben heard the satisfaction in her voice. "As I recall that someone got his revenge."

"As I recall that someone carried his revenge a little too far."

"As I recall that someone didn't get everything he wanted."

"As I recall that someone got everything I could give him." 

Ben rolled over on his side and lifted the hat off of Phil's face. His eyes caught and held hers. "And what was that?"

"My love." But her love belonged to Martin now, not Ben. Then why did these memories still hurt?

The bewilderment and hurt in her eyes pained him. "I'm sorry, Phil. I made a mistake that I've had to live with for all these years." He sighed and rolled back onto his back idly rolling her hat into a ball. "Phil, I don't know what to think anymore. This past year, no...these past **years,** I've had ample opportunity to review my behavior and I honestly can't explain it. I've begun to think that I'm fated to remain on the outskirts of life and love because of what I've done to you."

"Ben, what happened between us all those years ago is done and over with. We don't need to punish ourselves for something that didn't work out. What we had just wasn't meant to be." Then why did her heart feel as if it were breaking anew? Surely a simple statement of the facts shouldn't affect her the way it did.

Ben digested her words, wondering if what she said was true. Were they simply 'ships passing in the night' with nothing but a Colorado summer of memories to mark the love they once had? Something buried deep in his heart; something wounded by Victoria fought to the surface--fought to be recognized. Closing his eyes, he studied the tenuous swirling entity. He caught glimpses of faces from his past--his father, mother, sister, grandparents, Cat, Ray, and Phil-- each bringing a different color to the swirling mass. A tiny part of the entity was jet black and from it shot tendrils of brittle coldness, carrying the sylvan voice of Victoria. He watched the blackness thicken and choke the other vibrant colors from the entity. Only Phil's wisps of emerald remained continually attacked by the cancerous blackness. Slowly Ray's gold returned to fight the blackness. As the dark retreated the scarlet of Cat and the azure of Becka reemerged followed by the grey/violet of his grandparents and the copper and crimson of his parents. Soon the blackness was only a faint stain on the swirling beauty of the entity. Voices spoke to him from the colors, each in turn reminding him of love. Only then did he recognize the hazy, rainbow-hued entity. He had denied its existence but lying here on this rock beside Phil, he could no longer turn his back on it. It was love--the love that was almost destroyed by Victoria--the love that he existed on the outskirts of.

Stunned by this vision, he opened his eyes and stared into the blue expanse above him absent-mindedly noting the wispy clouds that were too high to bring any relief from the heat. Words of his father came to him and he turned his head slightly to stare at the woman beside him. Was it possible? Could he recapture what he'd lost? Could he undo the harm caused by Victoria? The swirling entity of his vision seemed to indicate that. Cat said he could change Phil's mind about this other man if he wanted to? Did he? Could he chance it? Did he want another chance?

"Are we being given a second chance? I don't know, Phil. A part of me hopes so but another part of me is afraid that I can't make the right decisions anymore. Believe me when I say I don't want to make the same mistake twice." The words came from the depths of his heart and when Phil answered him he realized that he'd spoken them aloud.

"I know that, Ben. I **don't** know if this is a second chance for us. I don't even **know** if there can be a second chance for us. I promised Cat that I would own up to my feelings about you..." She sat up and stared down at the man beside her. "After this trip is over and we can talk privately without all this." She waved her hand at the others of the group, including Ray. "Then maybe we can deal with what may or may not exist between us." She paused and drew in a shaky breath. "Ben, please don't push me for anything else before then. I'm not ready for this. I don't know if I'll ever be ready; but I promise you, after this trip is over, we'll have that talk that we need to have. Okay?"

Ben nodded. "I understand, Phil, I feel the same way-a little frightened, a little wary, a little suspicious. I don't know what to say to you, how to act. I feel like I'm making all kinds of mistakes, saying the wrong things, and that's something I don't want to do." He shrugged helplessly. No, he wouldn't burden her with his problems. He rolled to a sitting position and unconsciously leaned toward her. "Let me say one thing now and I won't say it again until you say I can. I..."

Phil's hand shot out and her fingers settled against his lips. Feather light they were but they effectively blocked the words she wasn't ready to hear. Phil stared into the depths of his blue eyes and read the confusion and anxiety there. "I'm sorry, Ben. But I'm not ready for this. Please, don't bring it up again. After this trip is over, maybe we can see then." Her eyes begged for his understanding.

He understood. He was patient, he could wait, but there **would** come a day when his waiting would be over. On that day everything that needed to be said would be brought out into the open. Maybe after that day, he could resolve his feelings and get on with his life. A stray thought entered his mind. What if that life included the woman seated beside him? He looked at Phil in a new light. Was this second chance a chance for more than just a recovered friendship? Could it be a chance for love? Did he want to take that chance?

He watched Phil take her hat from him before reclining on the rock once more and covering her face with the hat. Now that she no longer could see his face and observe his expressions, he let his mind fumble through the confusion that clouded his thoughts. What was he feeling when he looked down at the slender form beside him? He turned his head away and gazed across the river to the cliffs on the far side. He closed his eyes and let his mind blank to all but the turmoil of his emotions. 

Slowly a peace pervaded his thoughts. He became aware once more of that presence he kept imprisoned in a dark corner of his heart. He turned and almost fearfully extended a hand to the tenuous, swirling rainbow-colored entity that stood behind him. As his hand encountered a tendril it took on the shape of a hand. As he grasped the phantom hand the fuzziness of the hand and arm sharpened. His eyes trailed up the arm to the shoulders and the face above. He was not surprised to see Phil smiling at him. The Phil he had loved so many years ago and had tried to bury in the darkest recesses of his heart. He drew in a ragged breath, opened his eyes, and stared hungrily down at the woman beside him.

Phil stretched, accidentally brushing against the hat covering her face. As she reached to replace it she caught a glimpse of something in Ben's eyes. He quickly turned his face away from her. She sat up and laid a hand on his arm. "Ben? Is something wrong?"

Struggling for control, Ben shook his head. "No, Phil, nothing's wrong. I was just lost in thought."

"I understand, Ben." Phil understood better than Ben could ever imagine. What she couldn't understand was why her memories of a love that had ended years ago were supplanting her memories of Martin's love.

Turning to look into her face, Ben could see that she really did understand him. She had memories, too.

* * *

The Hunter brothers returned within the hour with their supplies. Travis called to Ray and pointed back the way they had come. "Ray, now's your only chance to get out of the rest of this trip. You gonna take it?"

Ray looked the group over. Several voices chipped in, "Don't go, Ray." 

"We need you to keep these crazy people under control." 

"Ray, I need you." The last came from Ben. 

It was the last one that settled his mind. He peered intently at his friend. "Okay, okay, I'll stay, but you gotta promise me that you won't do anything we'll both regret."

"I promise, Ray."

Running a hand over his sparse hair, he glared at Ben out of the sides of his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, why is it I don't believe you?"

"Probably because you know Ben too well to know that things have a way of happening around him," Phil answered his question. Ray sighed deeply and nodded his head in agreement.

"I'm hurt, Ray...Phil." But Ben's evident pleasure in Ray's continued presence on the trip was not lost on the two.

Soon, everyone was back in his or her respective dory and eager for the journey to continue. Ben and Travis alternately steered the 

Glen Canyon. Horn Creek Rapids approached at Mile 90, a dangerous 9  
with a drop of 9 feet. Travis would steer the dory through the whitewater  
there. As before, the dories beached above the rapids while the boatmen  
scoped the whitewater for the best path through. The river thundered  
around the two prominent boulders called the 'horns'. The Colorado again  
reminded them that, although the dories were unsinkable, they were not  
unflippable. If not today, then tomorrow, or if not tomorrow, soon. Each  
person standing above the horns knew that with a certainty. Several patted  
their life jackets. With those bright orange vests the thought of being  
thrown into the thundering whitewater was one they could live with. To  
be sure, they could live even better without it, but the river would  
not let them put it out of their minds.

Shouts from up river heralded the approach of another group of river runners. This group, however, did not stop to reconnoiter the rapids. The two pontoon boats were like barges that resembled an endangered species of river pig as they buzzed and smoked past the small group on the shore. The passengers on them stared incredulously at the sight of the small boats. Several cameras were swung up and pictures were taken of the fools crazy enough to attempt the Canyon in those tiny boats. Travis and Terry waved at the boatmen who waved back.

One of the passengers on the final pontoon boat yelled across at them, "You've **got** to be kidding!"

"I wish we were!" Ray shouted back.

"We'll wait a bit and let that group get further ahead of us. We don't want to smell their exhaust all day long," Terry told the group. Sure enough, wafted from the direction of the now disappearing pontoons were the unmistakable odor of exhaust fumes and the smell of raw gasoline.

Terry made an obscene gesture toward the pontoons. "Be thankful you're not on one of those. After riding in one all day, everything smells and tastes like gasoline! I don't know why anyone would want to travel that way. It's too easy--sort of like mountain climbing with the aid of a helicopter."

Soon the four dories and two rafts were taking their shot at Horn Creek. They avoided the two horns, crossed its tongue, and catapulted down the wave train.

Granite Rapids at Mile 93 would be the last rapids of the day. Camp would be set up below the rapids. Granite was like mogul skiing: riding up on a wave, turning and sliding, topping the next wave, and on to the next bump. The dories steered clear of the huge waves but were almost swamped by the waves curling back from the north wall of the Canyon.

* * *

Dinner tonight consisted of spaghetti, garlic bread, spinach salad, and Danish pastries for dessert. After the final piece of bread was eaten, the final pot scrapped, and the final dish washed the tired but excited trekkers gathered around the campfire. Terry dragged out his guitar and serenaded the group to his version of campfire music. It wasn't bad but would have been more pleasant if he could carry a tune. Unfortunately, Terry was tone deaf.

Josie finally intervened on behalf of the group. "Terry, quit caterwauling and give that thing to someone who can sing." She purposefully handed the guitar to Carol.

Carol strummed the guitar and with a wicked gleam in her eye, sang:

**__**

The captain's wife was Mabel

She was ready, willing, and able

To give the crew

Their daily screw

Upon the galley table...

Hoots and laughter greeted Carol's rendition of _'The Good Ship Venus'_.

Travis quickly stopped Carol's serenade by taking the guitar away from his wife. He handed the instrument to Phil. "Sing something a little more appropriate, Spuds." He glared at his wife who glared back at him.

Phil took the guitar and strummed a few chords. A tiny smile curved the corner of her mouth before she raised her face to the group. "I'm really sorry that Josie started this. But if I must I must!" She moistened her lips preparatory to singing. 

The movement of the tip of her tongue mesmerized Ben as it played across her lips. Unconsciously, he mirrored her movements with his own tongue. The mood of the moment was broken by Ray's startled question. 

"What do you mean _'started this'_?" Ray asked.

Phil grinned cheekily at him. "Terry and Josie have this little thing they like to do to each group that rafts the Canyon with them. I had hoped they would forget it this time, but I can see I was mistaken."

"Okay...what's this 'little thing'?"

Josie smiled innocently before replying. "Everyone has to participate in our campfire singing. You can either play the guitar or sing a song or both! And no one, and I mean no one, gets out of it!"

"But I can't sing worth a damn!"

"Neither can Terry!" That brought the laughs out of everyone there. "Go on, Phil. Let's see if you've improved over the last time!" 

Groans came from the vicinity of the Hunter brothers. "Go on, Phil, let's get this over with."

"Okay, you asked for this." Actually enjoying herself, she strummed the guitar again. "I've been taking lessons...actually joined a choir...just so I wouldn't embarrass myself again...the things I do to maintain harmony on these excursions...makes me want to go back to teaching..."

Ray leaned closer to Ben. "Can she sing or is this running commentary her idea of a song?"

Before Ben could answer, Phil skewered Ray with her coffee brown eyes. "I heard that, Ray. Now you've hurt my feelings...I just don't know if I can do this..." She rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Phil! For crying out loud, sing! I'm getting tired of your BSing! Sing us several verses of Dinah." Josie grinned at her.

Phil glanced at Carol and the two of them shared a guilty smile. "Not on your life! I'll let Carol sing that little ditty!"

"Not unless you sing it with me!" Carol laughingly swatted Travis before he could shush her once more.

"Here, here." Terry chimed in.

"Yeah, sing."

Ben joined his voice in entreating Phil to stop the monologue and get on with the song. Sighing deeply, she complied and belted out a quick rendition of an old sea chantey, much to the amusement of everyone present.

**__**

What shall we do with a drunken sailor,

What shall we do with a drunken sailor,

What shall we do with a drunken sailor,

Earlye in the morning?

Hooray and up she rises,

Hooray and up she rises,

Hooray and up she rises,

Earlye in the morning.

Ben listened to Phil sing the chantey but his mind insisted on overlaying _'Silent Night'_ for the words. Why did Phil's voice evoke a Christmas memory? Ben stared at Phil, puzzled over this turn of events.

When she finished, she stood and gave the group an exaggerated bow.

"Pass it on, Spuds. Pass it on," Josie called. Phil glanced around the group gathered about the fire.

Ray held up his hands in a warding-off motion. "Not me, Phil. Please, have mercy!" Phil smiled as she strolled around the fire to Ray. "Phil!"

She grinned at him and handed the guitar to Ben. Ray's mouth fell open when he realized he had been spared for the moment. Phil leaned down and whispered dramatically, "I'll let you off today, but I'll get you sooner or later."

Ben grinned at Ray. "That's not an empty threat, Ray. She means it!"

Phil smiled sideways at Ben who held the guitar like it was some alien object whose purpose was unknown. "Now, Ben, I know you can play that thing. Please, don't disappoint me and the group."

Ben swallowed convulsively. Of course he knew his way around a guitar but, looking at Phil, the only songs he could think of were love songs. He looked at the expectant faces of his friends around the campfire. He watched Phil return to her seat on the other side of the fire. Okay, if he had to sing, then he'd sing a song for her. After all, she's the one who gave him the guitar in the first place. He smiled across the fire at her.

Phil sat down beside Terry and Josie and watched Ben familiarize himself with the guitar. It had been over twelve years since she had heard him sing. She wanted to hear his rich voice once more. She caught his eye as he stared across the fire at her. Suddenly, she didn't think this was such a good idea. His stare said things she wasn't ready to deal with.

Ben glanced down at his fingers as they caressed the strings of the guitar. "This is one of my favorite songs by a fellow Canadian." He cleared his throat and began,

**__**

The first time ever I saw your face

I thought the sun rose in your eyes

And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave

To the dark and the empty skies my love

To the dark and the empty skies

Phil shifted nervously. The song hit a little to close to home for comfort. She vividly remembered Ben's deep blue eyes and how she felt like drowning in them. But that was over long ago and she really didn't feel that way anymore. Then why was she having such a hard time looking at him?

**__**

The first time ever I kissed your mouth

I felt the earth turn in my hand

Like the trembling heart of a captive bird

That was there at my command my love

That was there at my command

Ben closed his eyes and indulged in memories of kisses that were feather soft--at first, tasting of chocolate and caramel, then gradually becoming deeper, more passionate, more intimate--tasting of love and completeness and Phil. Maybe this choice of a song was a bad idea. It raised too many memories that he no longer wanted.

**__**

The first time ever I lay with you

And felt your heart beat close to mine

I thought our joy would fill the earth

And last 'till the end of time my love

And last 'till the end of time

Phil bowed her head and fought the memories of that first night together. Ben was such a gentle teacher. He had taken her to heights of ecstasy as he played her body like he played his guitar. She shivered as that old familiar longing enveloped her. No--she was over him. Then why did her body long to plaster itself against his frame? Why did she want to feel his hands on her, stroking her, touching her? No, it should be Martin she thought of, not Ben. But it wasn't Martin that filled her thoughts.

Ben bowed his head as well surreptitiously watching Phil from across the fire. He stared at her but he saw a different Phil--a Phil with her face glazed with sweat, moaning her pleasure as he plundered her body. That old familiar desire began to build in his groin. No--he was over her. Then why did his body long to plaster itself against her frame? Why did he want to feel her hands on him, stroking him, touching him?

**__**

The first time ever I saw your face

I thought the sun rose in your eyes

And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave

To the dark and the empty skies my love

To the dark and the empty skies

Phil raised her head and stared across the flames at Ben. The desire she felt for him burned in her eyes. It had been a long time since she had felt this way about anyone. Not even the flashes of desire raised by Martin could compare with what she was feeling now. _'Cat, you never warned me about this. You never said I would feel like this again.'_

But Cat wasn't here to help her face her feelings. She stared across the fire at Ben and fought to keep those feelings in that dark corner where she had placed them years ago. She saw the answering desire flare in his eyes. How could they still desire each other after so much had happened between them? Was a physical attraction all they had left between them? If that was all there was then it wasn't enough. She dropped her eyes in confusion. If it wasn't enough then what did she want?

Ben raised his head and stared across the fire at Phil. The last chords of the song died away and he continued to stare at her. The desire he felt for her burned in his eyes. He felt like he was trapped in one of those dreams that had haunted him for so long--loving Phil, then waking and finding her gone. _'Cat, you never warned me about this. You never said I would feel like this again. Why didn't you warn me?'_

Ben fought his own battles with his thoughts as he tried to push his memories back into that corner of his mind where Phil had lived all those years. He watched Phil and saw the answering desire flare in her eyes. His body called to her, but could this be all there was? Did he only desire her physically? Was this attraction all they had left between them? He dropped his eyes as the question rolled around in his mind. Did all he want from Phil boil down to what Cat had called a _'roll in the hay'_? Or did he want more? What did he want?

Ray watched the interplay between Ben and Phil. The song was simply the cherry on top of the whipped cream. There definitely had to be something between them, even if they wouldn't admit it to themselves. He studied Ben as he sang the song. There was a yearning there that anyone with eyes could see. A memory tugged at his thoughts and giving free access to them, winged back to their shared vacation at the Edge of the Earth cabin resort. Those dreams that had haunted Ben and frightened Ray were about Ben's lost love. Something clicked in Ray's mind. Ben had called out a name in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Ray pulled that name from his memory--Phil. Ben had called for Phil. At the time Ray had thought that Phil had stolen Ben's love from him. Now he knew better. Phil had been the love Ben regretted losing. He took another long look at Ben. Was he still in love with her? And what about Phil? What did she feel? He hoped that, whatever it was they still felt for each other, it wouldn't result in him being hurt again. As much as he was drawn to Phil, as much as he liked her...if she hurt Benny like Victoria had hurt him...she would have to answer to him.

Mara, too, watched the interplay between Ben and Phil. What could he possibly see in that woman? She wasn't particularly attractive and much too old for him. Frankly, she thought Ben was just using Phil as a convenient ruse to keep her at arm's length. Why, he even acted like he had no idea of how to react to the advances of a woman. Maybe he thought the old maid spinster leader of this trip was a safe subject to practice on. _'She's probably frigid!'_ she thought. Not one to step back in the face of a challenge, Mara decided to double her efforts to reach the Mountie. There was no sense in wasting his obvious charms and potential on someone who didn't appreciate them the way she would. Still, there must be something between Phil and the target of her desires. She'd witnessed the glances they'd given each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. But Phil seemed not to want to have anything to do with him. What in the world was going on between them? Maybe all she needed to do was intensify her attempts on Ben. Surely, he couldn't be indifferent to her considerable charms.

Rising fluidly to her feet, she strolled around the fire and settled down beside Ben after he laid the guitar aside. Gazing at him through her long lashes, she lowered her voice until it was a sultry whisper. "That was beautiful, Ben. It sounded like you were singing it for someone. Anyone we know?" She twined her arms around his and smiled hopefully at him.

Disentangling his arm from hers, he answered her, "I sang it for a woman I once loved, Miss Taylor." He let his eyes drift back to Phil. She was watching him. Her eyes said it all. She knew that the song had been for her. Why had he sung that song? Why not something historical or even silly? Why a love song?

Mara's eyes narrowed as she followed Ben's line of sight and caught the look in Phil's eyes. Yes, she definitely needed to step up her attack on the Mountie.

* * *

Phil lay awake on her bedroll on Carol's raft gently rocked by the current of the river as it dashed away from Granite Rapid. Her thoughts matched the boiling frenzy of the water. She could no longer deny her attraction to Ben. He filled her thoughts and sent waves of desire crashing through her body. How could she possibly be attracted to the man that had broken her heart all those years ago? Yet, her heart remembered the love they had once shared, the promises made and broken, and the child they had created--a child she had loved and lost just as she'd loved and lost Ben. How could she even stand to be near him? How could she still have these feelings for him? She loved Martin, didn't she? Martin would never hurt her the way Ben had. Martin was dependable and she loved him. Then why did her thoughts not turn to Martin? Why must they focus on Ben? 

Moisture collected at the corners of her eyes and spilled over to run down the sides of her face. Surely she couldn't still be in love with him, could she? Not after what he'd done to her, she couldn't possibly still care for him, could she? Why couldn't life be simple? Why did he have to enter her life just when she thought she'd found someone to replace him? Why did he have to be here? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She didn't love him anymore even though a small part of her heart continued to whisper darkly, "Liar."

* * *

**__**

Journal entry: 4 September 1997

I feel that with a little practice I could become proficient handling these dories. They are certainly a challenge. I am hopeful that before this trip is over I will have the chance to navigate one of the larger rapids. I have been successful with several of the smaller ones and now wish to try my hand at something a little more formidable. What I have learned here is something that Ray and I could have used after the plane crash. Hopefully that situation will not arise again, but if it does I will be prepared.

Phil is losing her wariness of me. She doesn't jump if I speak to her or try to pull in other people if I find her alone. I enjoy her company. I find that I don't feel a need to put on my 'polite Canadian' face, as Ray calls it, when I'm with her. I feel comfortable in her presence. I guess I have always felt that way with her. 

It's strange how Fate can play into your hands. I hadn't thought of that old song for several years, but tonight it seemed just right. Why I sang it, I'm not sure. I've finally gotten over my love for Phil and yet...I sing love songs to her and it feels right. Why am I doing this? What can I possibly hope to achieve except to hurt both of us again? I've made too many mistakes in my life. I won't make that one again. Yet, when I look at her I remember happier times. I remember what it felt like to drown in her eyes, to plunder the depths of her mouth, to kiss her soft contours, and to plunge into the warm depths of her body. I have not known that kind of fulfillment since I left her. Not even Victoria warmed me like Phil did. Is Phil the only one who can warm me...save me?

I sang my song to her. And if the expression on her face, the look in her eyes is to be believed, then I chose right. She always was a softy for love songs. Maybe I'll get another chance to sing to her. Maybe I'll get a chance to sing to her alone. Maybe.

Maybe Cat was right. Maybe Phil isn't in love with this other man. Maybe she still loves me. But can she forgive me for what lies between us? Do I want to find out? Being within touching distance of her and not being able to touch her is painful. I feel those old desires for her rising in my blood and I want to hold her in my arms and stroke her soft skin and kiss her lips and make passionate love to her. Could I still love her? Why does that thought fill me with fear? Am I afraid that I will discover that I love her only to discover that she doesn't love me?

What am I going to do?

* * * 

 

To be continued (?)

***Excerpted from _'First Through the Grand Canyon'_ by Major John Wesley Powell

 

Copyright June 1997 by Cassandra Hope

Comments are welcome at 

baktrak@earthlink.net

 

Visit my website at 

http://www.geocities.com/baktrak1 for  
books 1 and 2 ****

Second Chances

(Book 3 of the Ben & Phil Saga)

  1. On a Collision Course--Redux
  2. Second Chances
  3. A Cop, a Mountie, and a Dory
  4. Canyon Interlude by Carol Trendall
  5. Rhyme of a Not-so-Ancient Mariner
  6. Down the Valley of the Shadow
  7. The Heart Remembers



 


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